The Choices We Make
by SpencerRemyLvr
Summary: Remy took something important from someone, something big, and they want it back. So, they take something important of his
1. Chapter 1

_This is a two-chapter story right now. It's either going to act as a prequel for a later story, or I'll just add the chapters on here later on, I'm not sure yet. For now, it'll be two chapters and those two will stand alone for a little while._

* * *

The weather was absolutely miserable. Though it had only been drizzling when Spencer Reid left the BAU, it was now pouring down rain. Naturally, it had to happen on the day he was forced to take the bus, which also meant that he had to walk a few blocks from the last bus stop to his apartment. Just long enough to get him drenched and freezing. He wasn't looking forward to that.

As he slipped off the bus and into the rain, quickly opening up his umbrella, the young genius consoled himself with thoughts of what lay ahead. Today might not be the greatest but starting tomorrow things were definitely going to look up. The twenty nine year old FBI agent was about to start his two week-long vacation that he'd been looking forward to for almost three whole months now. That was how long it had taken for him and his best friend, Remy, to be able to match their schedules up well enough to take the joint time off. It was worth it, though. Spencer couldn't wait until Remy's arrival tomorrow. They had barely been able to see one another lately and Spencer hated it. This was the longest the two had gone without seeing one another since they'd first become friends almost eight years ago.

The two had met through a mutual friend here in DC. Spencer had still be new to the area, only having moved to DC once he joined the Bureau and not really having much time to explore around once he arrived. He had, however, made a few contacts. Discreetly, of course. The last thing that Dr. Spencer Reid, brand new FBI agent, needed was for it to get around that he was making connections in the mutant side of town. Not only was that something that he knew would get him in trouble, it was also something that could very well end up revealing his biggest secret—his own mutation.

Jason Gideon knew that Spencer was a mutant when he recruited him for the Bureau. He knew even before he came up to Spencer. With his help, the young mutant was able to get into the Bureau without anyone finding out. The only people they told was the team that he was going to be a part of. At Gideon's prompting, he'd explained to them what his powers were while the team were all over at Aaron's home, ensuring them privacy. "What I have," he'd told them "is kind of like empathic visions. I can touch something and get images off of it. Sometimes I get regular visions while I'm sleeping, prophetic type dreams, or while awake. But usually I see something when I touch an object. I sort of connect to the person who touched that object through their emotions. The stronger the emotional tie to the object, the easier it is for me to link to them." Mostly, he got little flashes, just images and impressions that were connected to whomever the object belonged to. It was something that was definitely helpful in their line of work, though Spencer was surprised as the years went by just how little he really _had_ to use his powers to help them. For the most part, he and the team didn't actually need the help. His powers were more like an extra tool but not an actual necessity.

His powers were what actually helped Spencer meet Remy. They'd met through a mutual friend, yes, but prompted because of Spencer's powers. The young agent had been downtown at a bar that was discreetly set up for mutants, a sort of relaxing place for them to go, when he'd happened to touch something on the table that someone had left behind. In his vision, he'd seen someone getting jumped, getting _shot_. He'd set out almost immediately with his friend, Marcos, right on his tail. Together, using Spencer's visions, they'd found one Remy LeBeau just in time to keep him from getting shot.

Something like that tends to sort of bond the people who go through it. Remy, who hadn't hesitated to believe in Spencer's visions, had grinned his thanks and insisted on buying Spencer a drink in thanks. That, as they say, was that. The two had drinks together and got along far better than one would suspect for two such opposing personalities. From that moment forward, they were almost inseparable. They talked on the phone constantly, exchanged letters, visited one another, and became closer to each other than Spencer had ever been with anyone.

They'd kept their friendship mostly secret from their other friends. Spencer's team knew that he had a friend, one he wouldn't tell them anything about really, and they respected that. He did it to protect Remy and to protect the team, too, so if it ever came out that he was friends with one of the X-Men, there was no way any trouble could come down on them. Remy did the same thing with his friends. The X-Men knew that he had a friend in the Bureau, but they didn't know who it was. The only person that did was Logan and that was only after Remy and Spencer had talked quite a bit and agreed on it. Letting Logan know about Spencer meant that there was someone who could get in contact with Spencer if anything ever happened to Remy. Remy didn't need a person to alert him if anything happened to Spencer; the young genius wasn't his only contact at the Bureau.

Spencer was caught up in his memories as he made his way into his apartment building and out of the rain. Later, that was the only excuse he could come up with for not sensing what was up ahead of him. For not realizing that there was anything wrong when he stepped inside of his apartment.

He never saw it coming. That made it worse, somehow. The fact that he never even knew there was anything wrong until it was too late. Spencer remembered walking down the hall towards his apartment, already starting to relax just knowing that he had two weeks of vacation time ahead of him, and he remembered opening the door to his apartment. There'd been nothing to warn him that anyone was there waiting for him. Nothing until the pain exploded in his head and then it was too late and he was falling, already unconscious before he hit the ground.

* * *

When he woke up, it wasn't slow and steady, but with a sudden jolt of pain that shocked all his nerve endings and flung him back into a reality that was much more painful than he remembered. Even with the steady thud in his head, his brain still ran faster than most and it took him only a second to take things in. One, he was tied to a chair. Not a great start to things. Two, someone had thrown a bucket of cold water on him. Yay for sopping wet clothes and freezing cold air. Three, he was in some strange place that, at first glance, he'd guess was some basement room, probably somewhere isolated. These kinds of things always ended up happening somewhere isolated. The group of thugs that were around him was just the icing on the cake. With all of that, it wasn't hard to make the leap to what had happened in his apartment, and the pounding in his head just helped cinch it. Someone, or multiple someone's, had been lying in wait and had knocked him out before he'd even gotten fully inside. Well, this was all just _great_. What a fantastic way to start a vacation!

The fact that he was being sarcastic, something that wasn't typical for him, and that he was doing it inside of his own head, was something that he chose to ignore. His sarcastic side had a tendency to come out when he was hurt. Back when he was a kid he hadn't learned quite how to keep it all in his head and it had tended to come tumbling out past his lips which in turn just got him into more trouble. He'd learned to keep it all inside since then. Safer that way.

The profiler part of his brain was already racing. It had been only moments since he'd been so rudely woken and these idiots had already given him more information than they realized. They should've put something over his eyes if they didn't want him knowing anything. He was known for seeing and processing bits of information at a rapid fire speed. Then again, the fact that he wasn't blindfolded or anything like that didn't reassure him in the least. It didn't speak of anything good, that was for sure.

There were four people around him, quite a few men for one skinny guy tied up to a chair, and none of them were the ones in charge. Who exactly they were was unclear. They were very obviously professionals. The way they held themselves, even the way they dressed, gave that away. They held themselves at alert, too, now that he was awake and looking at them. None of them were saying a word. The one with the goatee, he was setting down the bucket that had been used to wake Spencer up, but he wasn't saying anything. None of them were. They were all acting like they were on high alert here. But four big men to guard against him, a small, skinny guy that was tied up? It didn't make sense. They had to be guarding him for an entirely different reason. But, what? Maybe…maybe they knew he was a mutant, but not what his powers were? It was the only thing he could think of. If that were true, he could use that to his advantage.

He gave a brief thought for the fact that apparently being kidnapped had become somewhat normal or expected enough that he didn't even panic over it. Or, at least, not excessively. What did that say about him?

He pushed those thoughts aside as the door to the room started to open. It looked like his questions were about to get answered.

One look told him that the man walking in was the one in charge. Three piece suit, obviously tailored, with shoes that Spencer recognized as Italian leather—thank you, Rossi, for that bit of knowledge—and even jeweled cufflinks. Mentally, Spencer snorted. Who wore jeweled cufflinks when they went to speak with someone that they'd kidnapped? The man was making sure to make an impression. The sooner Spencer figured out his game, the better. With all the alpha dog personalities in here, gaining information would come a bit easier if he let them see him as just a tiny bit weak at first. Play up the grogginess and headache for all they were worth.

The man stopped right in front of Spencer and looked down him with cool gray eyes. "Hello, Dr. Reid." The man greeted him politely in a voice that carried a smooth English accent to it. "It's a pity meeting you under these circumstances."

"What's going on?" Spencer didn't even have to fake the slight rasp to his words. His headache was still pounding and it put a layer of pain over his words. He let his head list to the side a little and peeked out through his lashes to watch the man's face. "Where am I?"

To his surprise, the man let out a laugh. "Do not think you are fooling anyone, Dr. Reid. I am not an idiot. I know who you are and I know what that amazing mind of yours is capable of. I also know the type of training that you've had. Do not think you can play weak and feeble minded with me. It will only make this whole process much more arduous than it need be."

Well, that wasn't good. Obviously the weak routine he'd been aiming for wasn't going to work here. That didn't mean he had to give it up entirely, though. He could still play a part. He was just going to have to be very careful about it. For the moment, though, he needed information, and playing along with this guy was the way he was going to get it. Spencer ignored his headache and lifted his head just a little. Wet hair hung in his way and he was forced to stare past it as he looked up into this man's eyes. "You seem to have me at a disadvantage, then. I admit I have absolutely no idea who you are."

"No, you don't." The man agreed. He smiled, slipping his hands down into his pants pockets. "For the sake of conversation, you may call me Mr. Eli."

Eli. That name didn't ring any bells. Then again, it was almost definitely fake. 'Eli' had no reason to give out his real name. But it was better than thinking of him as 'the man' or 'the boss'. "And what is it I can do for you, Mr. Eli?" Spencer asked.

What he got as an answer wasn't what he'd expected and it was enough to make his blood run cold. Eli's smile grew sharper and colder. "Remy LeBeau."

Spencer was frozen in his seat. Every instinct in him demanded he stall, lie, anything. All that he could manage to say was "Who?"

A backhand sent him reeling. He tasted the coppery tang of blood in his mouth and knew his lip had been split on his teeth. Ignoring it as best he could, he looked back up to see Eli adjusting one of the rings on his hand as calmly as if he hadn't just slapped a man. "I told you, Dr. Reid, not to play weak and feeble minded with me. You know exactly who Mr. LeBeau is."

This guy had done his research. Best to assume that he knew too much and try to work around that. "Whatever problem you two have with one another is between the two of you." Spencer paused and ran his tongue over the inside of his lip to wipe away the small bit of blood there and to give himself just a second to make his voice a little steadier. "He keeps his work and personal lives separate, so if this is about a job he did for you, I don't know anything about it." Just as he and Remy had always planned it.

"Is that so?" Eli hummed lightly and shook his head. There was a light in his eyes that had Spencer wanting to lean back. Though the man was calm, his eyes showed the emotion underneath. The pain and the rage and something else that Spencer had seen in the eyes of the Unsubs he and his team caught. A twisted light that reflected the insanity burning deep inside. When he smiled, it only made it all the more chilling. "It's no matter." He waved a hand almost negligently at that. "You aren't the one I want. You're merely, a means to an end. I've been trying to catch up with Mr. LeBeau for a little while now and he's been disappointingly reluctant to meet with me. So I was forced to resort to alternative methods."

The way he looked at Spencer made it clear what _that_ meant. He was the alternative methods here. This was something that Remy had been afraid of happening, and that he'd always tried so hard to prevent—Spencer had been taken as leverage to draw Remy in.

Whatever it was that showed on Spencer's face had Eli smiling. "I see you understand. I'm sorry to have to resort to these methods, truly I am, but they are necessary. You see, Mr. LeBeau took something from me, something very important. So I decided I would take something important from him." Turning, Eli looked at one of his guards. "Bring me a chair." Within seconds, one of his guards materialized by him with a chair. The man set it down and Eli gracefully sank down into it. He crossed his legs and then folded his hands in his lap and smiled at Spencer like they were two old friends sitting down for a friendly chat. "You're going to help me, Dr. Reid. You're going to tell me how to find Mr. LeBeau."

That question didn't even take any thought. "No." There was no way in hell he was ever going to give Remy over to these bastards.

"I rather think you will."

"I rather think you're going to find yourself disappointed." Spencer countered. Gone was the quiet of earlier. Any thoughts of trying to play weak or anything like that vanished along with it. Now wasn't the time for that. Now was the time for a different game. Spencer lifted his chin a little more and he met Eli's gaze head on. He couldn't be as scary as the man, but he could lock himself down and be just as calm and collected. It was a hard won skill that he'd really cemented over the years. "I would never hand him over to someone like you."

"Someone like me?" There was just a hint of a laugh to Eli's voice. "As opposed to the man he is? Come now, Dr. Reid, you would judge me without even knowing me, yet condone the lifestyle that Mr. LeBeau lives? Or…do you not know who he is and what he's done?"

Spencer tossed his hair back from his face and glowered at the man. Though his head was pounding, especially after that head toss, his voice was steady. "I know exactly who he is and I'm proud to call him my friend."

"Such loyalty for a thief." He shook his head. "No better than a whore, his services bought by the highest bidder."

"He's more a man than you ever could hope to be." Spencer said it so simply, like it was a recitation of fact. A steady belief in him. "Even at his worst, he's better than you."

Another backhanded blow had his lip reopening again. "Watch your mouth." Eli said coldly. "I know the kind of man Mr. LeBeau is. Better than you, I imagine."

Spencer kept silent as he ran his tongue over his teeth and then tipped his head to the side to spit a glob of blood down to the ground.

The expression on Eli's face changed slightly. His look was calculating, just slightly intrigued, and colder than anything Spencer could remember seeing. "Maybe I've underestimated you, Dr. Reid. You seem more like him than I thought." He said slowly, eyes locked on Spencer. "Maybe he taught you his filthy trade. Is that it, Dr. Reid? Are you just as much trash as Mr. LeBeau is? Are you nothing more than a whore, a mutant _freak,_ masquerading as a decent human being?"

Spencer looked at Eli and there was only one thing that crossed his mind. Later on, he blamed the idiocy on his concussion. It was probably the single most stupid idea that Spencer had ever had. All it was going to do was cause him more trouble and a whole lot more pain. But, despite knowing all that, the anger in Spencer was burning brightly and he couldn't help himself. "You want to know what he taught me?" Spencer asked, leaning in a little, his voice lowered slightly so that Eli instinctively leaned in just a bit more to better hear him without even realizing he was doing it. As soon as the man was close, Spencer flashed a bright smile and said "This" and then he snapped his head forward and right into Eli's nose. Pain erupted in Spencer's already sore head, but it didn't block out the sound of Eli's nose breaking very loudly and very clearly.

The satisfaction he felt at that didn't keep him from hitting the ground when a solid blow to his jaw sent him and his chair flying sideways. The pain of landing on his arm was almost as bad as the blow to the face. How the hell he got away with not breaking anything was a mystery. He was lucky his shoulder only dislocated. There was no way he could keep his scream in when they yanked him upright again and then reset his shoulder. Then none of it mattered. He had just enough time to see the fist coming at him before his whole head felt like it exploded in pain and then the world went dark.

* * *

For the second time in as many hours, Spencer woke to water being thrown on him. This time he wasn't as eager to come back to reality. The water effectively woke him and had his eyes flinging open. Immediately he slammed them shut once more when the light hit his eyes. His stomach rolled and twisted in tune with the pounding inside of his head. Somehow he kept from throwing up all over himself. That really would've just topped off the day. If he hadn't had a concussion before, he sure as hell did now. He knew the sensation a little too well.

Someone slapped lightly at his cheek right over top a sore spot and Spencer jerked his head back, which only served to make the world around him spin. He curled his hands into fists and dug his nails in his palms as he fought the dizziness and nausea.

"Come now, Dr. Reid." Eli's smooth voice came from somewhere off to the left. There was a hint of satisfaction to it that had Spencer wanting to glare. "It's time to wake up, or you're going to miss all the entertainment."

Well, hell, that didn't sound good. Spencer focused on trying to shove everything down as far as he could. He hesitantly opened his eyes just the slightest bit. The light was still too bright, too painfully blinding, but little by little he managed to blink his way past it. However, he found out pretty quickly that he wasn't much better off with his eyes open than he'd been with them closed. The world was still trying to dip and sway like he was on a ship and everything was just a little blurred at the edges. To make it worse, there was two of everything, making it twice as blurry. He blinked his eyes a few more times and turned in the general direction of where he'd heard Eli's voice coming from.

A low laugh told him he was looking the right way. "Problems, Dr. Reid?"

It took a minute for Spencer to figure out how to make his mouth work. "Me?" Ah, there, a word. So his throat _did_ still work. Good to know. He flexed his jaw, stretching out the aching muscle. "No. I'm fine. Great. How about you?" He squinted and tried to focus on at least one of Eli's two faces. Damn double vision. He could see enough to see the tape and the bruising, though. Again, he blamed his daring on the concussion. A smirk curved his lips as he asked "How's the nose?"

That wiped Eli's smile away. He marched up and caught Spencer's chin in a firm grip. His fingers pressed over the bruising on Spencer's jaw and drew a hiss from him. Bending down, Eli brought his face in close until Spencer swore the world was swimming in those cold eyes in front of him. "Let's see how sanguine you are here shortly, you little bastard. Your precious Mr. LeBeau is on his way here now." He let go of Spencer's chin and straightened up. Glaring down at Spencer, he promised "I'm going to let him watch us kill you, nice and slow."

"Remy's coming here?"

"He found the little phone we left at your apartment for him." Eli said smugly. "He thinks he comes to trade my item for your life."

If he thought that his words would scare Spencer, he was sadly mistaken. The genius didn't move at first. Then, to the utter shock of those around him, he started to laugh. Low chuckles that echoed around them. When Spencer lifted his head, he was grinning. "I'm going to enjoy this."

"You're awfully cavalier about this, Dr. Reid." Eli said.

"You think so? Maybe I just know him better than you do."

Anything further was cut off when Eli's cell phone rang. "Yes?" He answered sharply. A shark's grin curved his lips. "Good. Yes, yes, of course." Closing his phone, he smirked at Spencer. At least, that was what it looked like; it was kind of hard to tell. Things still weren't quite clear yet. "I guess we will find out, Dr. Reid. Mr. LeBeau has just arrived."

The blurriness and double vision made it hard for Spencer to watch across what he was just realizing was the inside of a warehouse of some sort. Still, it wasn't hard to tell when Remy entered. He didn't have to see him to know he was there. It showed when the guys around Spencer went tense and on alert. The footsteps he heard told him that the man was getting close. Then a blurred figure he thought might be Remy stopped a little ways away from him. "I'm here." Remy's voice called out. Just the sound of that familiar accented voice was enough to have Spencer relaxing a little in his chair. It was his body's automatic reaction to Remy. He'd always represented a sense safety to Spencer and his body recognized that. The figure of Remy solidified a little with him being still now. There were still two of him, but they weren't as blurred. It let Spencer see the serious look the man wore. He could even tell as those devil eyes locked right on him. "How you doin'?"

"So polite." Eli said merrily.

Remy didn't even look over at him. "I wasn't talking to y'." He snapped at Eli. His voice shifted again, softening ever so slightly. Most people around them probably wouldn't have noticed it. "How you doin', cher?" He asked.

There was no point in lying about how he felt. Spencer knew Remy was looking him over at the same time and assessing the damage. Either for his own peace of mind or to factor in any injuries into his plan. Probably a little bit of both. If it was to factor things into a plan, it wouldn't help for Spencer to be anything but truthful, but he wasn't going to sit here and start listing injuries. He couldn't help the dry tone as he said "I've had better days."

"T'ink y' can hang on a minute longer?"

Spencer let out a weak little chuckle. "I think I can handle that. Just try not to draw it out for too long, would you?"

He thought he saw a small smile twitch over Remy's lips. "No promises. I been a bit bored lately."

Their conversation was putting Eli and his whole team off balance. That was probably half the reason why Remy was doing it, he knew. The other half was most likely because he knew it was helping to steady Spencer—and it was. It was helping a lot. He actually relaxed a little more and summoned up a small smile of his own despite the ache in his face. "Far be it for me to ruin your fun."

That seemed to be Eli's limit. The man stepped forward, placing himself firmly between the two men, blocking off Spencer's view of Remy. "I don't think you quite understand your situation here, Mr. LeBeau." Eli's voice was harder than ever, with this nasty edge to it that showed the hatred he either couldn't or didn't care to conceal.

He didn't get a chance to launch into his speech. Spencer heard Remy's low growl, which effectively silenced Eli. " _Non_ , _monsieur_. I understand perfectly. I t'ink y'r de one dat don't exactly understand y'r situation." Remy said, and Spencer just knew the man was sneering. "Y' made two big mistakes here. One, y' took _him_. Dat was y'r first mistake. Second, y' was dumb enough to let me come here, and with plenty of time to plan."

"You are one man, Mr. LeBeau."

" _Oui, mais_ y'r missing one important thing here, _homme_."

"And what, pray tell, is that?"

Spencer could hear the smile in Remy's voice. "I didn't come alone. Spencer! Close your eyes."

He obeyed that tone automatically, without hesitation. His eyes snapped tightly shut and he ducked his head down just as he heard a loud crash up above. There were a few thuds and multiple voices crying out. Then there was a strange hissing sound and a smell that Spencer thought he knew but couldn't quite place. The next thing he heard was a very familiar sound indeed—the sound of small explosions. Remy was fighting. Spencer knew he'd recognize that sound anywhere. He'd heard it often enough.

Eyes still closed, not sure what was going on, he held stiff and waited to see what was going to happen next. He had to trust Remy. The man obviously had a plan and Spencer had to trust it.

The feel of hands touching his wrists had Spencer jumping so bad he almost toppled himself and his chair. His eyes shot open without thought, only to find himself in a cloud of smoke. _Smoke grenade._ His brain supplied. The rest of him was focused on the hands on him, his body bracing to try and defend in any way he could. Then he felt what the hands were doing, felt the cuffs fall away from his wrists, and he knew that this had to be one of the people Remy had said he'd come with. No one else was exactly going to be eager to set him free right now. The touch was small, light fingered, definitely female. The fingers trailed up his arm and to his shoulder. His good one, thankfully. He felt a body press close and then a familiar woman's voice was asking "How well can you move?"

Trin. That was Trin, a woman that Remy and Spencer both knew who worked down at the bar that Marcos owned. Spencer knew how who Remy had called in for backup.

The idea of moving was enough to have his head aching. There wasn't any choice, though. He closed his eyes once more. It wasn't because of the smoke. He knew any movement was going to start his head spinning and it would only make him sick if he actually tried to watch it. He would do better moving blind. "If you guide me, I can move."

His hand was caught in Trin's slender one and it was lifted up to come to rest on what he felt was her shoulder. "Hold on tight and don't let go."

The thuds and explosions around them continued on as Spencer trusted Trin to guide him. The first few steps were pure torture. After that they didn't get any easier, but he controlled his responses for as long as he could. The whole walk was sort of a blur. Every step was a new lesson in pain and Spencer quickly sort of blanked it all out. He went where directed, moved as he was moved, and just kept putting one foot in front of the other for who knew how long. It wasn't until he heard Remy's voice calling his name that he came back to any semblance of reality. Even in his current state, he immediately recognized when Remy's hands were on him.

There was no time for them to stop and rejoice in seeing each other. "Dis way." Remy directed them. "Dat aint gonna hold em off fo' long. We gotta move."

"It's just right over here." Trin said from Spencer's other side.

They only moved a little further before they stopped. All of a sudden the arms around Spencer shifted and Trin moved away from under his hand. That left room for Remy to slip up close. "All right, cher, I gotta get y' up. Lean in against me an let me take y'r weight, _d'accord_? It's gonna hurt, _mais_ I'll get y' in dere as easy as I can. C'mon now, cher, dat's it."

Spencer followed his friend's instructions trustingly. He always trusted Remy. Though it hurt his shoulder, he leaned in against him, let Remy take the brunt of his weight, and then there were hands at his feet and he was moving, falling almost, and he tried to move his arms to catch himself but they just weren't cooperating. He should've known better, though. Remy was there. Remy had him, was pulling him in, and he wasn't letting him fall. Only a second in the air and then Spencer felt himself being drawn in not just to Remy's chest, but actually curled up with him, lying against something solid and warm. It took a moment to realize that he was sitting between Remy's legs, leaning back against his chest, and Trin was setting his ankles carefully down on a blanket. Then she was shutting a sliding door beside them—a van door, they were in a van—and saying "Okay, Marcos, go!" and Spencer felt the rumble that he hadn't paid attention to before, the noise of the engine, and they were moving. He was free. That knowledge washed over him and he closed his eyes against the embarrassing sheen of tears that built there. He was free.

Now that they were secure, Remy's hands wasted no time in running over him, doing a check for injuries. " _Dieu_ , Spencer, are y' all right? How bad did dey hurt y'?"

"I'm okay." Spencer reassured him. Now that he didn't have to move around, he felt a bit better about opening his eyes. Some things were still slightly doubled and his head was definitely pounding but he could see well enough to be able to see his best friend's face when he looked up at him. In that moment Remy's face was the best thing he'd ever seen. "Really, I am. I've had worse."

"I shoulda fuckin' killed de _connard_ fo' touching y'." Remy snarled. He cupped his hand gently over Spencer's cheek and lightly brushed his thumb over a bruise. " _Je suis désolé,_ Spencer. I'm so sorry f' dis."

Arguing was a bit beyond Spencer right at that moment. His headache was making it too hard to think. So he did the only thing he could think of to do and he just leaned his face into Remy's hands, murmuring "Shut up. My head hurts too much to argue with you."

Letting out a low chuckle, Remy drew Spencer in against his chest once more. "Y' can do it plenty when y'r feeling better, cher."

"I'll hold you to that."

No one said anything to him for the next little while. For that, Spencer was grateful. He stayed laying against Remy's chest and drifted in and out of consciousness and just gave himself time to relax as Remy got them far away from here. Later would be time enough to find out what the hell was going on. Later, he'd have plenty of questions. For now, this was exactly what he needed right here. Remy's arms around him, his chest firm and safe under Spencer's ear.


	2. Chapter 2

_I should've done this as one big long one, but oh well. Here's the second half!_

* * *

By the time that Trin and Marcos dropped Remy and Spencer off at an out-of-the-way motel, the young genius was much more alert than he had been. His body was aching and it felt like his brain was trying to hammer its way out of his skull, but he'd found a semblance of control and had managed to yank himself back towards something a bit more alert and coherent. He was able to climb out of the van under his own steam and manage to stand up without too much dizziness at Remy's side as the Cajun spoke quietly with Marcos and Trin ran inside. She emerged a little bit later and handed over a single key to Remy. Then, with a look at Spencer and a small nod, she went back to the van.

A few seconds later, Marcos was nodding and getting back into the van as well. Spencer watched with confusion as the van started to pull away and left him and Remy standing there. The Cajun looped his arm through Spencer's. "C'mon, cher, let's get y' somewhere a bit more comfortable, _oui_? We need to see how badly y'r hurt."

"Where are Marcos and Trin going?" Spencer asked in confusion.

"Dey're gonna try and lay a false trail b'fore ditching de van." Remy said. He drew Spencer over towards a room down at the very end of the row.

There were a thousand different questions that were burning in Spencer's mind. Questions that had been accumulating ever since he'd first woken up tied up to a chair. He was going to get answers, too. Just, not out here in the parking lot of a crappy motel. He waited patiently until they were inside the room and Remy had him sitting down on a bed, producing a small first aid kit from one of his many pockets inside of his jacket. One again Spencer thought to himself that he needed to search his friend's coat one of these days and figure out just how many pockets there were and how the hell he managed to fit so damn much inside of them.

Remy brought a towel from the bathroom that he'd wet down at one end and came over to sit beside Spencer on the bed and check his head wound first and foremost. Spencer sat there and let him, wincing as the towel touched a particularly tender spot. He looked up through the fringe of his bangs and watched the concern and guilt chasing one another across Remy's features. _Time to get some answers_. "Remy, what's going on here?" A simple question to start things off with. One that he had a feeling wasn't going to have a simple answer.

Instead of answering directly, Remy asked a question of his own. "Y' didn't see anyt'ing while y' was dere?"

It was obvious what he meant by 'see'. Spencer started to shrug only to get painfully reminded about his aching shoulder. He froze and sucked in a breath, squeezing his eyes shut to try and give himself a moment to ride out the pain. _Dammit_! He'd forgotten just how much a shoulder could hurt after it'd been reset. Getting it popped out and back into place always left pain and bruising behind. He'd be feeling that for a few days. Everything else, too.

"Spencer?" Remy's voice was thick with concern. His fingers were still touching Spencer's skin and it allowed the genius to get a warm impression of Remy's worry and his affection both. "What is it, cher? Where's it hurt?"

Spencer ignored that question and focused instead on the last one. "I didn't see much. Not enough to understand." He blinked open his eyes once more and looked up at Remy's face. "I got enough between his words and what I could see to know that you took something of his, something that's important, and he's more than ready to kill you to get it back. You or anyone that gets in his way. He has the resources to do it, too. That didn't seem to be a problem in the least bit."

That made Remy wince. He broke Spencer's gaze and turned his focus back to cleaning up the blood on the side of Spencer's head. " _Je suis désolé,_ Spencer. Y' weren't supposed to be involved in dis."

"We always knew that there was a risk of this happening. I accepted that long ago, Remy. Just, tell me what's going on."

"I did a job f' de Professor a few weeks ago, me. Went and stole some data from a company." A grimace crossed Remy's features. He pulled the towel back, setting it down beside him on the bed. "I was lazy—stupid. Dere was a time limit on de info Charles had, so I didn't do m' own recon. I trusted his information. _Merde_ , it weren't right. Was just finishing de job when security came in. Dey made me. I thought I took down de fool dat saw me, _mais_ someone else must've, too. Dis _homme_ , he wants dat information back."

That was missing a few details, Spencer knew, but it held enough for him to be getting by with. Enough for him to start piecing a few things together. "Where's the information now?"

"De copy I made fo' Charles got destroyed in de fight." Remy said.

"Uh huh. Where's your copy?"

Smirking, Remy produced a flash drive from seemingly nowhere and dangled it by a key ring from his finger. Before Spencer could reach for it, he quickly curled his hand around it. "Dis aint somet'ing y' wanna get any more involved with, Spencer. Dis _homme,_ he's got fingers in a lot of nasty pies. If it's bad or illegal, he's pretty much involved. Trafficking, drugs, mutant 'research'." Remy snorted at that one. "What I saw of dat, it aint no polite research. What he pays dese places to do makes M. Essex look like de good guy."

"Jesus."

"Exactly. An dat's only de shit I understand. Dere's tons in here dat looks like it's in code an I aint got de type of brain to translate dat shit."

"But I do." Spencer said.

Something flashed over Remy's face, there and gone again too quickly to be understood. He straightened himself up and scowled down at Spencer. "Aint y' listening, cher? It's bad enough dat he took y' to get to Remy. Dis aint somet'ing y' need to put y'rself any deeper inside of. We need to get y' safe, get y' back with y'r team, and den y' need to have dem put y' under protective custody or somet'ing until I can get dis taken care of."

Taken care of. There was only one way Spencer could see that going and the idea terrified him.

If this guy was as bad as Remy was saying that he was, then there was no way that Remy would just stand back and let him go. The person he'd become over the years, the man he said that the X-Men and Spencer both had helped turn him into, wouldn't allow him to just walk away with this kind of knowledge. Remy was going to go and take this bastard down, and Spencer knew he was going to do it on his own. He wouldn't dare ask for any help in this. Especially not after _this_. He wouldn't want to put anyone else at risk. Remy was protective of those they cared for and a quick way to hurt him was to hurt those he loved. It was also the quickest way to piss him off, as those tonight had learned.

Spencer knew what Remy would do. He'd take whatever information was on that flash drive that he had—information that this 'Eli' had been ready to do anything to get back—and he'd use it to take the man down. He'd take him apart bit by bit. He would've done it before, because Remy could tolerate some illegal activity but he couldn't tolerate any mutant 'research' and he definitely wouldn't be able to allow someone to continue on who was doing research that was even worse than Sinister's work. But Eli taking Spencer and using him against Remy had pretty much guaranteed the man's downfall. Remy wouldn't risk that happening again, and he couldn't in good conscience just hand the information over.

The idea of Remy going after the man alone was enough to have Spencer feeling sick all over again. Everything in him protested it. The feeling was so strong, he found himself reaching out, curling his hand around Remy's wrist. "Don't." The word was tore from him in a voice that was slightly aching. "Don't go after him, Remy, please. He'll kill you." Spencer felt that down to his very bones. He had no idea how he knew; maybe it was a part of his visions. Maybe he'd seen something without understanding. He had no idea. All he knew was that if Remy went after Eli alone, he would die.

"I can't just let him go, Spencer." Remy said apologetically. "An I can't involve de team. Y' know dat. I can't let him get his hands on de kids dere. Besides, y' and I both know dat dey aint gonna be able to do what needs to be done to take him down. Deir methods of stopping im wouldn't work. All it'd do would be to get dem killed. I can't let dat happen."

He was right. The X-Men would try and handle this with their 'minimal violence' outlook, maybe going and destroying a few buildings Eli owned, taking out a few places, and all that would serve to do would be to piss him off. He had money, Spencer knew. He'd rebuild.

They couldn't take this to Spencer's team, either, because a man with that kind of reach most definitely had government connections. Spencer wasn't naive enough to believe he wouldn't.

The young genius didn't realize he was going to speak until the words were already out of his mouth. "I'm coming with you."

Shock lit up Remy's face. He jerked back almost like Spencer had slapped him. "What? _Non_!"

"I wasn't asking you." Spencer said firmly. He hadn't intended to say the words before, but now that he had, he didn't want to take them back. They felt, right. Deep down inside of him they felt right. The certainty of it filled Spencer and strengthened both his spine and his voice. "I won't let you go after him alone, Remy. If you do, he will kill you. I'm not going to let that happen."

Remy stared at him for a long moment without saying a word. Spencer didn't move, didn't flinch under his stare. He stayed still and met Remy stare for stare and let that sense of conviction fill him so that hopefully Remy could see it and know just how serious Spencer was. After a long moment of silence, Remy gave a small nod. "It aint gonna be easy, Spencer."

"I know."

"It aint gonna be clean, neither." Remy warned him. "Men like dis, dey aint just gonna be stopped by a badge, or by little fear tactics."

"I know, Remy." Letting go of the hold he still had on Remy's wrist, he slid his hand down so that their fingers laced together. He kept eye contact the entire time so that Remy would understand just how serious he was. "I'm not saying I'm comfortable with this, not by a long shot. However, I _am_ saying that I won't let you do this alone. I'll be there with you, every step of the way. I'm not skilled like you, but I have talents and resources that may come in handy."

"Y' need to be sure about dis, Spencer. Be very, very sure. Cause once we get started, dere aint gonna be no turning back. We go down dis road and dere aint gonna be any stopping until it's done, and dere's a chance y' may never be able to come back to dis life. Y' come with me and y'r going to be giving up everyt'ing. Do y' understand that?"

"If I let you go on your own and you die? I'd lose so much more."

The soft, honest words rang between them, more true than anything either one had ever said to each other. Spencer had never meant anything more. If Remy went on his own and died in this, he'd taken everything in Spencer's world with him. He _was_ Spencer's world. The life that Spencer had built here in DC was wonderful and he loved the family that he'd made for himself. But like any family they would one day all branch off from one another and start families of their own. They'd grow up and move on. Remy? Remy _was_ Spencer's family. He was his everything.

Remy made a sound low in his throat that sounded both pained and pleased all at the same time. His free hand came up, curling tenderly over Spencer's bruised cheek, and he stroked his thumb over the high line of Spencer's cheekbone. "Y've been m' everyt'ing fo' a long time now, Spencer Reid. Dere aint not'ing more important in m' life dan y', do y' hear me? _Not'ing._ "

A smile curved Spencer's lips so wide it almost caused his injured lip to split back open. Leave it to them to be friends for so long and to finally reach this point, to finally admit what they'd both apparently been feeling for a long time now, while injured inside of a crappy motel room after one of them being kidnapped, and while they were preparing to embark on a mission that could potentially end with them dead. Spencer had never once pictured his life looking anything like this and yet he wouldn't change a second of it. All of it had led him here, to this man, this moment, and to a few words that were suddenly so easy to say. "I love you too, Remy."

Whatever lay ahead, they'd face it together. So long as they had each other, Eli didn't stand a chance.


End file.
